Eveything you ever
by Sugaredviolet
Summary: The Trio is looking for the last Horcrux. They seek help from an old professor. Book 7 with a slightly different storyline, Quirrell survived.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

"Harry, wake up!" A female voice harhsly cut through the morning mist of Harry's sleepy mind. He opened his eyes in an instant, taking a moment to realize his heart was beating too fast and he was covered in cold sweat. Hermione sat beside him. "You dreamt about him again, right?" Harry nodded. Unlike most dreams you forget as soon as you wake up, the dreams about Voldemort always seemed to burn themselves into his brain like acid.

While Hermione was getting him some water, Harry tried to calm himself. He ran a hand through his sweat-dampened curls, making them stand up all spiky. He could still hear Voldemort's cold voice in his head, could still feel his presence. He shuddered. Voldemort had killed someone. Again. How many was that now? Hundreds? Thousands? How many had to give their lives in this pointless battle before he could put an end to it? In the end, they didn't even matter. None of their names would make it into the history books. They were just casualties. That thought made Harry sick. If they all died, who was left to mourn for them? He couldn't worry about everybody. There was not enough worry left in him. He felt like an old sponge, just all wrung out. He shook his head. He had to stay positive. If he didn't think they were going to win this, he had nothing to fight for. Harry stood up and went to Hermione and Ron for breakfast trying to shut up the nagging voice in his head that told him he didn't stand a chance.

"Breakfast" turned out to be old mushroom soup and some berries Hermione had found nearby. Harry ate without complaint, knowing Hermione had done her best. He didn't want to start a fight now. Even Ron didn't say anything, although he grimaced in disgust.

"I've been thinking..." Harry began, although he knew he didn't really have anything new to say, "about the Horcruxes." "You didn't think anything", Ron interrupted harshly, "We already know. We destroyed the locket, the cup, the diadem. Dumbledore destroyed the ring. You destroyed the diary. He can't have anything of Gryffindor's. It has to be something that means something to him, that he has a relation to, blah blah blah. And it's really hard to find something that means anything to him, because in case you haven't noticed, You-know-who is not exactly big on the whole human-emotions-thing", his voice rose, "He doesn't love. Nothing has ever been close to him! He doesn't care for anything or anyone! We're about as far in finding the last Horcrux as Neville is to be elected as Minister of Magic!"

"What did you just say?", she said slowly. Ron shrugged. "Face it, Hermione. All your tutoring couldn't save his arse in transfiguration and he still stutters in front of the class." "Not that", Hermione said impatiently. "About nobody being close to him." Ron just stared at her, not getting it. "Wait a second", Harry said. He looked at Hermione. "Of course. You're brilliant." She nodded. "We have to find Professor Quirrell."

 **Note: This story is alreadly partly published on my old account, "Sahneveilchen". Since I haven't been online in forever, I couldn't remember my login. But I really wanted to finish the story, so here you go.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Finding Quirrel turned out to be easier said than done. After Harry had defeated Voldemort in his first year at Hogwarts, he had practically vanished from the surface of the earth. Nobody had heard from him ever since, for all they knew, he was dead.

Research led them nowhere. Hermione snuck into a local library disguised as a muggle, she looked through every newspaper of the last seven years, but nothing. She read all of her books, she read about possession and mind-control, but none of the information seemed to relate to their cause or could give them any clue as to what had happened to Quirrell or where he was right now. One night, Hermione sat in front of the tent, her frowning face lit only by the glow of the nearly dead fire they kept for grilling mushrooms and to keep themselves warm at night, reading a passage of a wizard who had specialized in mind-control and his tries to possess a squirrell. Harry sat down beside her.

"How's it going?", he asked, trying to sound casual. Everything ticked Hermione off lately. "Well, Harry, how do you think it's going, huh?" Crap. "What do you want to hear right now? That our research leads nowhere? That Quirrell's probably dead or even if he is alive, he's hiding somewhere we'll never find him, because we don't have any freaking clue where to look? That even if we do find him- which borders on the impossible, because we probably don't have the teeniest-tiniest chance of doing so- he probably won't have the slightest idea what we could be searching for and all of this will have been for nothing, is that what you want to hear? Because if so, you're in luck." She threw the book on the ground and buried her face in her hands. "This is pointless."

Harry didn't know what to say. He just hoped she wouldn't start to cry.

Instead she looked up, her face hardened with the look of a warrior ready to fight. "You know what?", she said, "it doesn't matter. It was a stupid plan anyway. We'll just have to find the last Horcrux by ourselves."

Harry didn't dare to tell her he didn't think they stood a chance, now that their last hope was gone. He didn't even like to think this himself.

Even though Hermione had practically given up on the idea altogether, the thought of Ex-Professor Quirrell didn't leave Harry's mind. Hermione was right, he was the only person Voldemort had ever been close to- and maybe not only in the physical sense. What if there had been some kind of connection between them? What if Quirrell had been able to read his thoughts? They had shared one body, who knew if they had also shared one mind?

One week later something happened that made them all forget about Quirrell and the last Horcrux. They were listening to the radio, as a familiar voice said gravely: "Bad news, people. Justin Finch-Fletchley, seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been found dead this morning. It appears he has been killed by Death-Eaters."

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other, shocked. "Justin..", Hermione mumbled. "He was half-blood", Ron said. Harry shook his head. "I don't believe this. Who does he think he is? Just killing people like that? With his stupid, fucking Death-Eaters just thinking he's better than everyone else?" He was panting now and Hermione and Ron were staring at him like he was crazy, Hermione almost laughing nervously. "Harry...", she began, but he interrupted her. "You know what, we've been taking his shit way too long! We're going to destroy him. What do you say?" They just kept staring at him. "Voldemort is going down."

"Harry, no!" Hermione and Ron yelled in unison, but it was too late. The words had already escaped his lips. They heard shooting around the tent and without looking they knew their spells had been taken down. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?", Fenrir Greyback snarled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Everything seemed to be happening at once. Their tent broke down under the spells of the Snatchers that attacked Harry, Hermione and Ron. In the whole mess of coloured lightning and flying fabric, it was impossible to see exactly who was attacking who. Harry heard someone fall down beside him after he cast a stunning hex and he was fairly certain he had hit Ron. He had no time to check though, Hermione and himself still had to defend themselves. A scream sounded through the mixture of yells and curses and Hermione went down.

Harry more felt than saw the pain in her deafening yell. She was bleeding through various wounds, her face distorted with pain. Harry didn't know what to do. There was absolutely no way he could fight all the Snatchers by himself but if he let his guard down to save Hermione, they would kill him for sure. He didn't have a choice.

"Stupefy!", he yelled at the Snatcher near to him and quickly bent down to the bleeding Hermione. Blood was spurting out of her so fast Harry didn't know how there was any left inside her. She didn't scream anymore, instead her pale face was frozen in a look of pure terror.

"Vulnera Sanentur", he repeated the song-like incantation Snape had used on Draco in sixth year. He said it three times and although his hand was shaking, Hermione's wounds seemed to close slowly. "Expelliarmus!" Harry was hit in the back.

When Harry woke up, he found himself lying on a cold stone floor. He looked around himself. In the dim lights he could see Ron slowly waking from his petrification beside him.

He sat up and rubbed his head. "Damnit." Then he spotted Hermione, still unconscious and badly bruised. "Hermione." Harry winced at the pain in Ron's voice. He robbed over to her and bent over stroking her cheek softly. "What did they do?" Harry answered. "Snape." "He was there?", Ron asked without turning around. Harry shook his head, until his spell. You know the one I accidentally used on Malfoy last year."

Ron stood up. "She's... but she's... you know. She is goiing to be... okay, right?" Harry didn't dare looking him in the eye. "I closed her wounds, but she lost a lot of blood." He felt bad he didn't do more. He felt bad about not reacting faster, about wondering what to do when she had been already losing so much blood.

"That's not fair", Ron said in a broken voice. "They should have gotten me instead."

Harry shook his head. "Don't say that." Ron was almost tearing up. "She doesn't deserve this. She always looked out for us. She was always there. I don't know what to do without her." Harry didn't say anything. "It's not fair", Ron repeated. "One time she needs me and I can't help her. I know I'm not the leading man. I know I'm not the hero, but shouldn't I at least be able to do what she would have done for me?" He looked down on Hermione. "I'm sorry", he muttered.

There was a crooking noise. "Did you hear that?" Harry whispered. "Someone's coming." Ron looked up. The door opened and light shed into the small cold room they were lying in. Somebody entered and adressed them in a voice that Harry guessed was supposed to be intimidating, but came out a little shaky: "Stand up and follow me." It was Draco Malfoy.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

Harry stood up and walked over to Malfoy. Ron just shot him a look of pure hatred and stayed at Hermione's side. "Why exactly should we do that, Malfoy?" Harry asked as calm as he could, carefully eyeing Draco's wand in the shivering hand that was still pointed at him.

"Be-cause I say so." Draco's voice broke. "Malfoy, if you think we're just gonna follow you quietly to our death-trap, you're even stupider than you look." Draco shot Harry an angry look. "Listen Potter", he hissed, "you're gonna follow me or else I'm gonna try a little spell on you that Professor Snape taught me." The tremble in his voice was gone. Harry didn't know if this was a good thing.

"Don't you think that spell is getting a little old, Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly, stepping aside so Draco could see Hermione lying on the ground. For a second there, he saw horror in Malfoy's eyes.

"He raised his wand again. "I don't have a choice", he whispered. "It's either you or my family." "Stop talking shit, Malfoy!" Ron suddenly spoke up. "That's not the choice! It's your skin or the future of the entire wizarding world! Right now, Harry's the only one who can save us, but if you're just going to be a coward and hand him over to the Death-Eaters, this world is going down! It's never gonna change if you don't let him go! Your family will always be in danger as will everyone else, because once You-know-who is really in charge and there's nobody to stop him, this world is truly going to hell."

Draco looked as if he had a mental break-down. "I can't! I can't let you go, you have to get that!"

Harry stepped up to him. "Look, Draco, you gotta take us out of here. I promise we'll try to save your parents. We'll try to save everyone. But first you gotta help us." "Fine." Draco looked up. "Punch me." "What?" Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't just go with you like that. They'll kill my parents for sure!" "Oh, right." Harry punched Draco in the face. "Ouch!" Draco yelled. "Not so hard." Harry rolled his eyes. "Scream once more." "Help!" They yould hear the Death-Eaters run down the stairs to the cellar, but by the time they reached the door, their prisoners were gone.

"What happened? What is going on here?" Lucius Malfy pushed through the men. Yaxley turned around with a grim look on his face. "They took your son."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

They found themselves in a forest. It was starting to get dark, but Harry could still make out the others. He also saw that Hermione wasn't bleeding anymore and she was conscious, but very pale. Ron was kneeling beside her, stroking her sweat-dampened hair. Draco was huddled together, muttering "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" Harry sighed. With Hermione out, Ron busy caring about her and Draco's brain gone boiling, it was up to him to put up their tent and protection spells.

Ron and Harry carried Hermione into the tent, lay her down and put Dittany on her wounds. Although it was probably too late to actually heal the and stop the skin from scarring, Harry hoped it would do some good.

Harry left Ron with the slowly recovering Hermione and went outside the tent to have a quiet moment. That moment didn't last very long, however, since Draco decided to join him after a few minutes. "What are you doing out here?", he asked, sitting down beside Harry. "Baking a cake", Harry replied dryly.

For a while, neither of them said a thing. Then Draco let out a sigh. "I'm so screwed. I should never have listened to you. My parents are going to be tortured. I failed them." He buried his face in his hands. "You're an asshole." Harry rolled his eyes. "If I'd've known what kind of drama-queen you'd turn out to be, I wouldn't have brought you along."

Draco glared at him. "Hey, orphan boy, you might not believe it, but some of us actually have a family they can worry about." Harry dug his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from slapping Draco. "You know, you don't have to be such a jerk all the time I have people I care about. Ron's whole family is in constant jeopardy and Hermione had to erase her parents' memories to stop the Death-Eaters from coming after them. We all have to deal with this stuff. Stop pretending you're something special."

"Sorry", Draco mumbled quietly without looking at Harry. He stood up and went into the tent. Harry stayed until it got too cold.

He was unable to sleep that night. It wasn't because Ron was snoring so loud it could bring a forest down or that Hermione was wincing in pain in her sleep or that Draco rolled around the whole time. He was lying awake because he couldn't stop thinking about Ginny.

Where was she? Was she still in Hogwarts? What went on there? He sighed. It wasn't helping that Draco kept kicking him in the side in his sleep. Actually, Harry wasn't even sure he was asleep. Maybe he just liked kicking him.

Finally, he decided this just wasn't going to work, so he went out of the tent to look at the stars. He closed his eyes. It could have been so simple. Just a guy in love with a girl. Why couldn't the have a normal relationship and grow old and get married? Or not. They didn't have to grow old together. They didn't have to do anything right now. They could just be together.

Only they couldn't. Because nothing ever seemed to work out for him.

Harry slept under the stars that night.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

Harry woke up in the middle of the night because he was lying on something hard. He went to examine the small object, expecting it to be some stone. Instead, he found Ron's deluminator. He must have lost it when he was helping Hermione into the tent earlier. Harry decided to give it back to him in the morning, but then he remembered something.

That deluminator had brought Ron back to them when he had left them a few months ago. He had told them something about light going into him... and he had gotten there, just by thinking about them, wishing he was with him.

Heart pounding in anticipation, Harry flipped the deluminator open. "Take me to the last Horcrux." He concentrated on the thought so hard his head started to hurt. But nothing. Harry didn't give up that easily, though. Maybe the deluminator just didn't take orders. "Please. Pretty, pretty, please-y." Nothing. "Please, would you, if it's not too much trouble, possibly maybe, bring me to the last remaining part of the Dark Lord's soul?" But apparently it was too much trouble. About half an hour and fifteen thousand tries of "Take me to You-know-who's stinking Horcrux" later, Harry gave up.

"What are you doing out here, Potter, did it get too cozy in there for you?" It was Draco. He sat down beside Harry. "If by cozy you mean getting kicked by you and having to tolerate Ron's exzessive snoring then yes." Harry sighed. Draco chuckled.

"Tell me about it. I mean, how does Granger even sleep through it?" Harry just shook his head, smiling. "So, you decided to sleep out here? Kind of cold, if you ask me." He shivered. Harry offered him his blanket.

"So, what are you doing?", he asked after two minutes of uncomfortable silence. "Just, you know, thinking and stuff." "About Weasley?", Draco asked. Harry looked at him in confusion. "Why would I be thinking about Ron?" Draco rolled his eyes. "The female Weasley, Potter." "Oh, yeah."

"You love her, don't you?" Harry nodded slowly. "I'm sorry you can't be together", Draco said so silently Harry wasn't sure if he heard right. For a while, neither of them said a word. Harry couldn't remember ever having felt more uncomfortable and he just wished Draco would leave.

"What's that?" Draco suddenly asked, pointing at the deluminator in Harry's hand. "Oh, this. It's called a deluminator. Dumbledore made it. It's some sort of enchanted pocket lighter. You can switch the lights in a room on and off with it." Draco took a closer look at the small object. "That's all it does? Sounds kinda lame."

Harry was about to protest, but he was too tired to get into an argument.

"Well, when Ron ditched us a couple of weeks ago, this thing brought him back." "He ditched you?" Harry shot him a look as if to say, 'don't ask'. Draco caught up on it and asked:"How did it bring him here?" "I don't know, exactly. He said something about thinking of us and this weird light getting into him and...bringing him to us." Draco raised an eyebrow. "Seems kinda fruity. Exactly the thing Dumbledore would design." Harry didn't bother to disagree.

"Harry, is that you?" Ron came out of the tent. Seeing Draco seemed to startle him for a second, and his face hardened but he said nothing.

"Hey, Weasley, sleep well?" Draco sneered. Ron just rolled his eyes. "What are you doing out here, it's freezing."

"Well, I was enjoying the solitude."

"Hey, why do you have my deluminator?" Ron pointed to the small obect. "Found it out here", Harry replied and threw it back at him. "You should take better care of it." Ron took the deluminator. "You know, I thought it could bring us to it", Harry raised his eyebrow to make Ron understand what he meant, "but it kinda doesn't work."

"To what?" Draco asked interested. The other two ignored him. "Damn, that was a good idea. And it didn't work at all? Did you really try?" Harry felt himself getting angry, but responded calmly, "Yes, I did, and no, it didn't."

"What didn't work?" Draco asked again. "Well, maybe...", Ron began, his voice trailing off as he stared silently, thinking. "What?" Harry asked. "Maybe... it can't take you there because you don't know what it is." "Where what is?" Draco asked.

"So, what you're saying is, that..." Harry could see where Ron was going with that. "That maybe it can't bring us there because we can't picture it-" "Exactly", Ron cut in, "But it could bring us to something we know." Harry nodded in excitement. "What the hell are you two talking about?" Draco demanded to know and this time Harry responded. "Maybe the deluminator could bring us to Professor Quirrell."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

Two minutes later, Ron came back out of the tent with a sleepy Hermione. "What is it, Harry?", she asked, yawning. "Look Hermione, do you remember when you said Quirrell was the only person You-know-who had ever been close to?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course I remember, it happened eighteen days ago." "Okay, so Ron and I had an idea." He pulled the deluminator out of his pocket. "That we could find him with this."

If he expected Hermione to be startled at this revelation, he was disappointed. She merely frowned and said: "I don't know, Harry. It may have helped Ron find us, but after all, he was sorry and he wanted to come back. Not to mention there was some sort of connection between us and the deluminator. I just doubt it'll work on Quirrell."

"Well, we'll never know unless we try, will we", Harry cut in. "Alright", Hermione said but Harry could tell she still didn't believe it would work.

Harry looked at the three of them. "You ready?" They nodded. Harry popped the deluminator open. "Take us to Quirrell's house", he thought as hard as he could.

Nothing happened. Harry opened his eyes in disappointment when slowly a bright blue light emerged from the device.

It hovered in the air for a second until it split up in four parts and went into each of them at once at a surprising speed.

They were taken aback from the force of the light over their hearts and then everything was a blur. Harry couldn't exactly say how it happened, but when he opened his eyes, they seemed to have let the forest behind them.

Although it seemed to have taken them no more than two seconds to travel, Harry could tell that a lot more time had to have passed. The sun was already up, bathing the green grass they were standing on in light.

They were standing in front of a small house, more of a hut, but in very good condition. It was painted bright yellow with dark brown casements. Standing in the midst of green grass and no civilisation in sight, the entire scene was oddly idyllic. It was weird to think somebody lived there who had once shared a body with Voldemort.

They were just going to the door, when Hermione stopped them. "One second, guys. It's probably better if only one of is knocks. He could get a stroke if he sees us all at once." She glanced at Harry.

"Who's gonna do it?" Draco asked. Ron slowly raised his hand. Everybody stared at him. "What?", he asked. "He won't remember me. If he is working for You-know-who or something, it's probably better if someone approaches him he wouldn't recognize or connect to Harry." Hermione stared at him, obviously impressed. He was right, of course.

So, Harry, Hermione and Draco hid near the hut while Ron knocked on the wooden door. It took a few minutes, but just as Ron was about to leave, a man opened.

Although he had visibly aged (sharing a body with the Dark Lord had obviously not agreed with him) and looked as though he had neither slept nor shaved in a few days, the man standing in front of Ron was unmistakeably their Ex-Professor Quirinius Quirrell. He had dark rings under his eyes and his voice sounded tired, but anxious as he asked: "Yes, what can I help you with?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

Ron looked taken aback for a second. "You are Mr. Quirrell, right?" he asked. "That's what my mailbox says," Quirrell answered dryly. "Right." Ron wondered what to say. "Uhm… So you probably don't remember me, I was in your Defence against the Dark Arts class six years ago."

Quirrell nodded, frowning. "Anyway," Ron continued. "I wanted to ask you something. Are you still working for You-know-who?"

Harry, Hermione and Draco groaned in unison. Quirrell looked at Ron as though he was stupid. "Are you kidding?" he finally asked. "I never worked for him. He possessed me." Ron turned crimson.

The others came out of their cover. Quirrell's eyes widened when he saw Harry. "Mr. Quirrell, I'm Harry Potter," he introduced himself and offered his hand, but Quirrell didn't take it.

"I know," he said. Nothing more. Not letting himself get irritated, Harry continued. "Actually, we came here to ask you something. Something about You-know-who."

"I-I thought I just a-answered that question," said Quirrell defensively with a look of fear in his eyes and slightly trembling hands.

"Oh great, we're back to the stuttering," Ron muttered. Hermione and Harry simultaneously shot him an angry look.

"Well, actually we wanted to ask you something else. We're trying to bring him down. And we need your help."

"H-How?" Quirrell asked. "

"We're looking for things… things that You-know-who liked, that he had some kind of connection to. And Hermione here-" He pointed at Hermione who smiled half-heartedly, "has suggested that maybe you'd know what we 're searching for."

"What… What are you talking about?" Quirrell asked nervously. Hermione spoke up. "Look, Mr. Quirrell, we don't have a lot of time here. Right now, You-know-who and the Death-Eaters are taking over the magic world. So will you help us or not, because you really are our only hope of ever bringing him down completely."

They saw the surrender in his eyes as he took a step back and gestured them to come inside.

Ron grinned at Hermione. "I love it when you scare people."

Hermione smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

"Come in", Quirrell said, after a little consideration. Ron helped Hermione over the threshold and they followed Quirrell to his living room. It was pretty, decorated with nice furniture and painted in light colors. However, there were dirty clothes and piles of dishes (some of them with slowly molding food) everywhere. As they finally managed to clear away enough to sit of the sofa, Quirrell rushed into the kitchen to make tea.

"I'm sorry about this", he gestured at the mess, "but I haven't tidied up in a while." "Or ever", Ron whispered.

When Quirrell finally served the tea, his hands were shaking so badly he spilled half the fluid all over the already stained coffee table. They took their half-full cups without complaint. Harry sipped at his tea, but it tasted more like water than anything else. He put his cup down and started explaining to Quirrell why they were there. To be on the safe side, he only told him the abridged version he had already told Draco after their escape from Malfoy Manor - partly, because Draco was present and partly because no matter what Quirrell said, he did not completely trust him not to take this information to Voldemort.

"He used something to ... survive. There's something out there that he has a connection to. But we don't know what it is, exactly-" "Or vaguely", Draco muttered. "That is why we need your help", Harry concluded.

From the look Quirrell gave him, Harry knew the Ex-Defense against the Dark Arts-Teacher knew exactly they were looking for a Horcrux, although he prayed Quirrell wouldn't figure out there was more than one.

Quirrell nodded slowly. "So, why did you come here of all places?", he finally asked.

"Well, as we already told you, Hermione had the idea that you may know something about an object You-Know-Who had an affection to. Since he was inside your brain and all ..." Harry finished somewhat lamely.

"I'm afraid I don't know what object you could be talking about", Quirrell said defensively. "You-Know-Who was inside my mind, yes, but I was not in his. I never knew what he thought - or how he felt." He looked away and there was an awkward silence. "So, no, I wouldn't know."

Harry sighed. Once again, he didn't know what to do next. So, he settled for another problem. "Hermione got wounded in battle. Could you maybe do something about it?", he asked.

While Quirrell was fixing up what was left of Hermione's wound and giving her some potions for possible inner bruises, Harry waited in the living room with Ron and Draco. He considered going through Quirrell's stuff, but then again he didn't know when he was coming back and anyway he didn't think he would find anything helpful.

While Harry was still considering this, however, Ron had already begun going through the drawers. "What are you doing?", Harry hissed. Ron didn't look up. "Going through his stuff. Checking if I find any clues on if he's going to kill us." "What?", Harry asked, flabbergasted. Ron put down the pile of paper he was holding and turned to face Harry.

"Look, we already are in the company of one ex-supporter of You-Know-Who", he glanced at Draco, "and we don't know if we can trust either." Draco held up his hands in disbelief. "Hey, sitting right here!" Harry and Ron ignored him. "Well, you can't really know if we can trust them if you don't try." Ron rolled his eyes. "Do you remember what happened at Lovegood's? He turned us in even if he supposedly was on our side. What are they going to do if they have an opportunity?" "Still sitting right here!", Draco complained.

Just as Harry was about to give Ron a half-hearted lecture about innocence until proven guilt, Quirrell came back with Hermione. Ron quickly put the papers back, but he still got a scolding look from his ex-professor.

Hermione carefully sat down on the sofa next to Draco. Ron didn't look too happy about that, but all he said was: "You feeling better?" Hermione nodded. "Well, Mr. Quirrell and I were discussing the ... You-Know-Who-issue and we may have had an idea." "Do tell", Draco said. Everybody was looking at Hermione expectantly, but it was Quirrell who spoke.

"Well, I can't tell you exactly what the mysterious object could be and as Miss Granger told me, there is more than one-", he looked at Harry, slightly annoyed, as Hermione blushed, "so we're going to have to think of the less obvious choices. I can only tell you what he told me and that isn't exactly very much as he probably knew he couldn't trust me ... but let me tell you this, he does have a human side. He hides it very well, but sometimes he would say something and I knew there wasn't just ... pure evil in him. Once, he was an orphan boy like you, Harry, only that he never had much interest in being nice. Still, I think ... I think it would have been easier for him if he had someone there to teach him how to ... love ... he's not really capable of understanding this emotion, you see. He feels it, I guess - although probably not too often - but he's not completely devoid of love. He just doesn't know what to do with it."

"Do you have a point?", Draco asked, annoyed.

Quirrell glared at him and continued in a slightly stiffer voice. "As I was saying, we need to find his weak spot. There was only one time he was truly happy and that was when he was at Hogwarts." Harry rolled his eyes. "We already have the cup, the locket and the diadem. He can't have the sword, because we have it and it is definitely not a Horcrux."

"Would you please let me finish?", Quirrell asked, almost angry now. "Do you want my help or not?" Harry held up his hands defensively. "Go on."

Quirrell nodded. "I don't think it's some object related to the school. My theory is that it is actually something in the school, an object he did not just have a purely metaphorical relation to. Something that is not only connected to the school, but directly connected to You-Know-Who."

"Like what?" Harry asked, but he shut up once he saw Quirrell's glare. "I don't know." "Which is why we're going there", Hermione interjected.

"What?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

Nobody said anything, but Harry was certain the others found Hermione's plan to be just as risky as he did. Nevertheless, not even Draco dared to say anything to contradict her. Instead, they silently agreed to do everything they could to not get caught while executing it.

Hermione snuck into a nearby village and came back with several strands of hair she had plucked off various pedestrians, "just in case". Harry copied pictures of the Marauder's Map that bore the different secret passageways into the school including a detailed description on how to use each one in case he wouldn't be able to explain it in person. Even while doing it he though it pointless - they had to be under constant surveillance. It was highly unlikely Snape hadn't found out about them.

Meanwhile, since they couldn't all fit under the Invisibility Cloak, Ron and Draco grudgingly practiced Disillusionment Charms with Quirrell. "Why do we have to learn them?", Ron complained. "Isn't it enough that one of us knows how to do them?" Harry inwardly rolled his eyes, but replied: "It's just in case, Ron. We might get separated, the Cloak might get lost. We have to know how to make ourselves invisible, we can't all rely on Quirrell - it's just too risky." He shot Quirrell a sideways glance and hoped he didn't catch the double meaning in his words. Quirrell just looked at him, but Harry's stomach turned uncomfortably.

"Then why aren't you learning them?", Draco asked, but Harry didn't answer. He didn't need the others to know he wouldn't be leaving Quirrell's side under any circumstances until they had found the Horcrux, invisible or not.

When Hermione was back, they discussed the plan. Harry and Quirrell were to take the potion, since there wasn't enough left for all of them. Under protest, Harry agreed, since Hermione argued that they would get into the most trouble should they be caught. Harry briefly though about pointing out that Snape would know he was there if he saw Ron and Hermione, but decided against it. The whole plan was nothing but improvisation, he realized, and it would be a sheer miracle if they actually managed to pull it off.

Late in the evening, they got prepared. Harry and Quirrell each took some Polyjuice potion and turned into a couple of male young adults, Harry with a weird mustache he couldn't help but scratching all the time.

Ron performed the Disillusionment Charm on all of them and smiled proudly when their bodies took on the colours and shapes of the background. Hermione shot him a bright grin. As an extra precaution, Harry and Quirrell hid under Harry's Cloak.

Before disapparating, they looked at each other in silent agreement. They would all make it through this night. They would find the Horcrux and stop Voldemort or die trying. Simultaneously, they turned on the spot and disappeared.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven:

As soon as they reappeared in the village of Hogsmeade, their arrival was announced by a horribly screeching alarm. Panicked, they tried to hide, but no such luck: even though they had chosen a very late hour to carry out their plan, the headmaster was still on the lookout.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?", Snape said in his usually slimy voice and Harry was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of pure hatred and despair. Couldn't luck for once be on their side? Before any of them could even think about moving, Snape waved his arm and cried: "Expelliarmus! Finite Incantatem!" Disarmed and visible once more, Hermione, Ron and Draco stood before him. If Snape was surprised to see Malfoy with them, he didn't show it.

"Weasley, Granger. So that must mean Potter is nearby." Under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry silently cursed himself for agreeing to this extremely stupid and dangerous mission that would for sure end their quest and not in a good way. They couldn't have been any less stealthy if they had come in to the village accompanied by a marching band wearing shirts with his face on them.

"Come out, Potter!", Snape snarled, as he grabbed Hermione and pointed his wand at her head. Ron threw himself at Snape in a fury, but Snape just made him stumble with a flick of his wand. "He isn't with us!", Ron screamed. Snape just scoffed and Harry knew he would never believe something like that. He actually knew them too well.

Harry didn't stir under the cloak and was grateful that Quirrell didn't either. Snape called out again: "I warn you, Potter, come out now or I'll torture your friends."

Harry didn't think Snape would actually do that, it just didn't seem right. But then again, he also wouldn't have thought Snape would kill Dumbledore. Before Ron or Hermione could say anything to stop Harry, he ducked under the Invisibility Cloak, leaving Quirrell still hidden. In the second it took Snape to turn around to see the movement, he hoped he wouldn't see that Harry didn't gather up the cloak.

"So", Snape said and drew in nearer. "What brings you here?" Facing Snape, Harry found some courage in his blinding hatred. "Why don't you ask your master?" Hermione winced and Harry was concerned for a second that Voldemort had told Snape about the Horcruxes and he now knew what they were planning to do, but then he remembered that Voldemort didn't trust anyone enough to convey that particular secret.

Indeed, Snape just glared at him, but there was no sign of recognition in his eyes. "Petrificus Totalus", he said lazily and Harry and the others went into a limp state, unable to move. Snape lifted them in the air and let them hover to the castle. Harry was suddenly reminded of a time when it was the other way around.

Because of the lateness of the hour they didn't come across any students of teachers that would have seen him, though Harry was unsure they would actually help them. Maybe McGonagall, but not Slughorn for sure.

In Snape's office, he let them out of their completely limp state, but still bound their feet by magic. Harry decided that if Snape called Voldemort right now, everything they fought for would be doomed. So, he said: "Listen!", before Snape could even so much as look at his Dark Mark. "We're looking to bring You-know-who down. I know you work for him and I also know that you will probably do anything you can to stop us. But Dumbledore trusted you and I believe he had a reason. You're rational, you don't want this to happen! Please let us go. We have almost made it, there's just one little piece missing. And if you hand us over right now, the world as we know it will be over."

He didn't know where the words came from and they sounded overly dramatic, but they seemed, against all odds, to stir something in Snape. He looked behind them and as Harry turned around, he saw Quirrell standing in the doorway, completely himself again. In all the confusion, Harry hadn't even realized the potion had worn off, but as he looked down on himself, he was in his old body.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Then Snape gave Quirrell a short nod, looked briefly at the quartet standing in front of him and touched his Dark Mark.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve:

Nobody spoke. Nobody screamed. Nobody dared to do as much as blinking. Voldemort was coming. It was over. Their quest failed.

They hadn't found the last Horcrux and now they didn't have time. Snape's betrayal hardly mattered. Harry hadn't actually counted on him to save them. He was a coward and would always put his life before theirs.

The knowledge that they were going to die soon couldn't settle in Harry. He felt numb. Hermione and Ron would be sacrificed for the mission he failed. What would Mrs Weasley say? He would never see Ginny again. Quirrell and Draco would die, and it was his fault. He shouldn't have taken them with him. The only person he really wanted to see dead right now was Snape.

Voldemort appeared. His snake-like nostrils and bloodshot eyes were still as vivid as the last time Harry had faced him. The memory of that night made him wince.

"Harry ... Potter", Voldemort addressed him and Harry's back prickled with goose bumps at the snake-like hiss. "How good to see you again. And you brought your little friends." He cast a pitiful look over Ron and Hermione before fixating on Draco. "Made some new ones too, I see. Your parents will miss you dearly", he now spoke to Draco. "But don't worry. Not for long." His thin lips curled into a disgusting smile and Draco trembled.

Quirrell stepped out of the corner he had retreated to and Harry thought he saw surprise in Voldemort's face. A second later, he was cold as ice again. "Quirinus Quirrell." Quirrell looked at him in fear. He swallowed and took a step forward. "Hello, Voldemort." Harry stopped breathing for a second. Never before had he heard any of Voldemort's servants use his name, not even the ones closest to him. That stuttering Professor Quirrell should use it to his face - he was not sure what to make of it.

Neither, apparently, was Voldemort. He looked at Quirrell with something like fear in his red eyes, if Voldemort was even able to feel such a thing.

And in that moment, in which Quirrell looked Voldemort in the eye, steady and unblinking, Harry understood. Voldemort had never meant to make this Horcrux. He had simply put a part of his soul in the thing nearest to him. And he knew that Quirrell understood, when he took his wand to his head and whispered, barely audible and sounding as if only addressing Voldemort, "Goodbye."

He dropped dead. Hermione screamed and Ron and Draco stared at him with wide eyes. But Harry knew what he had to do. It would be so easy now. He slowly took Quirrell's wand that had rolled over the floor, and pointed it at Voldemort. Voldemort took his gaze from Quirrell and faced Harry.

"Avada Kedavra".

The words were so easy to say. Voldemort's body dropped over Quirrell, losing its intimidation in death. It was done. He was dead. And for the first time in a very long while, when he looked at the bodies on the floor, holding each other in a strange embrace, Harry felt free.


End file.
